


Rainy Evenings in the City

by TabbieWolf



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Cigarettes, Drabble, M/M, Mentions of Lupin, but he’s off chasing Fujiko probably, mention of injury, romantic, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28014189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TabbieWolf/pseuds/TabbieWolf
Summary: The samurai and the gunman, post-heist. Drabble based on some fan art.
Relationships: Ishikawa Goemon XIII/Jigen Daisuke
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	Rainy Evenings in the City

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this beautiful piece of art](https://twitter.com/ctrls_save/status/1286302738217918464?s=21).

The samurai sat on the simple bed, kiseru in hand, watching the rain. It dripped steadily down the windows, turning the urban sprawl outside into an impressionist painting, taking away the sharp edges and bright lights, letting both the city and the men in the tiny apartment rest.

They hadn’t planned to be there long. The thief had promised this job would be easy, which guaranteed it would not be, though the samurai and his gunman had escaped with only a few scrapes and bruises. The thief had escaped entirely — “Probably ran off with _that broad_ again.” the gunman had hissed as they both limped out of the museum — and left his partners to figure out their own way back. They’d reached the apartment, thankful for the exhausted elevator that clanked their way to the tenth floor of the building, peeling off their dripping clothing the moment they’d gotten in the door.

The gunman shed his briefs, excusing himself, and the samurai, now equally naked, filled the electric kettle in the kitchenette sink before joining his partner in the shower. The two men rinsed off the sweat, the gunpowder, the stickiness of the early September rain, touching each other lightly. They carefully bandaged one another, watching their reflections in the cracked mirror, gritting their teeth as the newly rinsed wounds bled fresh. The bandaged samurai tended to the kettle, which had long since stopped squealing as they showered, to pour the water for his tea. The gunman lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply as he sat on the bed.

The samurai sipped his tea, watching his partner light a second cigarette and lay backwards, letting out a deep sigh.

“You think this is worth it?”

“Do I think what is worth it?”

“This. Heists. The chase. The constant...everything...from Lupin. Is it worth it?” The gunman carefully held his cigarette above the overfilled ashtray, letting the ashes fall.

The samurai pondered, sipping his tea, watching his partner. He saw the years of scars on his flesh, peppering his skin amongst the dark hair, the slices and stabs and bullet wounds healed oddly from stitches done in cheap motel bathroom tubs, in the back alley offices of questionable acquaintances. He watched the tight muscles of his forearm stretch as he fidgeted his callused fingers against the cigarette.

“I met you.” the samurai said, slowly.

The gunman looked up, his eyes moving from his cigarette to the man in front of him. His mouth twisted, a Cheshire grin curving up against his eyes. He pressed his smoke into the ashtray, extinguishing it in the pile of crumpled cigarettes there, and rolled over onto his back.

“You did, didn’t you. And I met you.”

The samurai continued to sip his tea. He finished his cup, carefully rinsing it and putting it away in the small kitchenette cabinet, before rolling out his pipe and carefully packing it. He heard a soft snore as he lit it, walking around to the front of the bed. He listened to the rain, smelling the burning tobacco from both his pipe and his partner’s extinguished cigarette, tasting the tea on his lips as he kissed the gunman’s forehead, wrapping a blanket over his shoulders as he settled onto the bed.

Despite everything, it was worth it.


End file.
